


Paul Gets Stuck

by Johnismyloveforever64



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Blood, Gen, Hospitalization, Illness, Needles, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnismyloveforever64/pseuds/Johnismyloveforever64
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ringo collapses and is rushed to the hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't as serious as it comes off in the beginning.

In early June of 1964, the Fab Four was doing a photoshoot in London. Everything was going well, except Ringo complained he didn’t feel too well. “Just relax. It’ll be over soon. Then, we can get some whiskey in you,” Paul told him, but Ringo wasn’t too reassured. Sore throat and a fever were battling him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.   
“Just scoot a little closer to the left,” the photographer instructed. Ringo did as she said, but as soon as the camera flashed he was out. Ringo lied on the ground unconscious, and the boys gathered around him. John poked him, and George was started to shake.   
“Ringo,” Paul said soothingly, “Come on, boy, wake up for us.” His voice was pleading. He shook Ringo slightly, and then sighed. Brian was not with them that day, because he had a business meeting, and the photographer just stood off to the side saying something about completing the shot another day. Paul knew he had to take control, but he was scared. Ringo was one of his best friends, and to see him hurt like this…it was a lot for him. But, he had to be tough. For the guys at least. He went straight over to a phone hanging on a wall, and called 911. The operator freaked out when she heard his voice, but connected him anyway. “My friend…my best friend, he collapsed just now, and he’s unconscious, and I need an ambulance…ASAP, and…I don’t know what’s wrong with him! just come!” he slammed the phone down, and slid down the wall. He watched Ringo lie there and John held his head in his lap, and he just felt so underprepared. He liked to think of himself as mature, but in that moment he felt the opposite. He was just so lost and confused on what to do or what should be done. He knew that Ringo was a sickly child, but his illnesses seemed to be long gone. Paul never thought they’d come back, and that the responsibility would be on him and the others.   
He got up and walked stiffly over to Ringo, John, and George. George looked like he was holding back tears, and Paul patted his shoulder. John stroked Ringo’s hair, and sung softly to him. it was a side of John he rarely saw. Compassionate. John could be very loving and affectionate at times, but others he was…well…macho, very, very macho. Paul kissed Ringo’s forehead, and started to pray silently to himself. Ringo was still breathing, but they could now tell what Ringo meant about being sick. His fever was high and he looked especially pale. Even unconscious he was shaking. None of them knew why.   
Finally, the ambulance got there, and hoisted him up on stretcher. The boys followed him out to the vehicle and jumped up with him. “We won’t leave you,” Paul whispered, squeezing his hand. George took the other, and John stood behind him. the EMT’s said that he’d be okay, but they didn’t know what was wrong with him since they weren’t doctors. John had to hold in his frustrations at their lack of help.   
The ride to the hospital was short, and once they got there he was taken swiftly away from them. Paul reluctantly let go, and George, with tear filled eyes, let go of his hand and said, “Take care of him, please. He means the world.” John wrapped an arm around George, and pulled him close. Paul put an arm around John, and they put their heads together.  
It wasn’t long before Brian showed up.  
“The press is going nuts. There are reporters, photographers, and woman, woman everywhere demanding to find out if Ringo is okay. now tell me if he is,” Brian exclaimed. None of the boys answered, because they didn’t have one. He had been in there exactly thirty-seven minutes, and no one knew if he was conscious or even aware of what was going on. “Boys, I know how tough this is, but you need to pull yourselves together. He will be okay.”  
“What if he’s not?” John asked softly.  
“Then…” Brian couldn’t finish that sentence.   
“He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve this,” Paul said quietly to himself more than anyone else. George looked at him, and he didn’t say anything for a while. Him and Ringo were very close. They fit together like Paul and John fit together. Ringo had always been the missing piece to George’s puzzle, and he couldn’t see a world without that piece.   
They didn’t say anything for a long time.   
Finally, a nurse came out and said, “He’s okay. he just woke up a couple of minutes ago, and he should be recovering quite alright. The doctors are still running tests to figure out what’s wrong, but you guys can come and see him.”   
None of the Beatles or their manager reacted for a full minute. They were digesting the information. They realized then that Ringo had been unconscious for over an hour, and only just woke up moments before. They felt a sense of relief that he was awake, and therefore not dead, but also fear of the unanswered question of what is wrong with him. each one wondered if he’d truly be ‘okay’ again, or was it just false reassurance.   
Either way they knew they had to see him. they wanted to, but were reasonably afraid. Seeing someone so close to them in that state is not an easy thing to do. but, they had to bear it.


	2. Wake Up, Ringo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo wakes up in the hospital

He was lying there, strapped to beeping machines, and his eyes were closed. A doctor and a nurse stood by going through some papers. Another nurse adjusted an IV in his arm. John gulped. This was not an environment any of the three felt comfortable in. John being the least comfortable. Paul was less comfortable than he let show.   
Hospitals were never a good place for Paul. he had never been checked into one, but when he was just fourteen he had his first experience with hospitals, and it was an experience he could never forget. His mother had gotten sick, and no one knew what was wrong with her, and eventually they figured out, a little too late, that she had Cancer. And, he went to see her, and she was not the image a son wants to see of their mother. She was thin and pale, resembling a zombie, covered in blood, and was too weak to even hug him. that night she was taken into surgery to try to remove the Cancer, she never came out. He had to actively push the memories from his mind, as he looked at his dear friend lying there helplessly.  
The doctor and two nurses left the room, and the other three watched them go. they turned back to their drummer. But, he was way more than just the drummer to them. He was more than a Beatle, he was their brother, and the future of his health was up in the air.  
George reached out and squeezed his hand and bowed his head. “Rings, I’m here, if you can hear me,” he said tearfully. John patted his shoulder.   
“Aw, George,” he teased, but Paul saw him hold back tears.   
“They’re going to fix you, Rings,” Paul whispered. Ringo opened one eye, and then he guffawed. All three of the other Beatles blushed.   
“You guys are ridiculous. Do you know that?” He asked, still laughing. The three exchanged a look, and then awkwardly laughed.   
“So, you were awake the whole time, jack ass!” John shouted. And, Ringo continued to laugh, and so did George, then Paul, and finally John relax and laughed too.   
“Guys, I’m okay, I promise. I feel like I got hit by a truck, but I’m cool.”  
“But…you just…passed out,” Paul said worriedly.   
“I know…I told you guys I didn’t feel too great. But, I’m okay. you guys know that I spent, like, half of my childhood in a hospital. Unlike you guys this isn’t something new,” he replied reassuringly. The other three reluctantly nodded. “So, no more worrying.”  
“Well, the press is going crazy. As soon as you checked in it became a frenzy for them. Oh, and the fans are all up in a tizzy. Crying in the parking lot, I heard. I, personally, feel bad for them. Their poor teenage hearts can only take so much,” John said, changing the subject.  
“Yeah, I mean, I can only imagine what they are going through,” Paul agreed.  
“It’s got to suck,” George added. And, a small smile spread across Ringo’s face.  
“I love you guys,” he said.  
“We love you too,” they all said at once.   
“When did we turn into women?” John asked out of nowhere, and Paul just smiled at him, and John smiled back.  
“Oh, God, McLennon needs a room again,” George replied. Paul and John ignored him and just looked at each other a while, and finally Paul looked away and laughed. Ringo snapped a picture.  
“Even here,” John pointed out, and Ringo shrugged, and took another picture of John’s irritated face.


	3. You Want Who? To Do What? Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo gets his diagnosis.

Then, the doctor came back in, and everyone froze. This is it, the moment of truth, and they all knew it. even Ringo.  
He asked the other three Beatles if they wanted to stay, and they quickly responded with a, “yes,” and he nodded. “Okay, Ringo is going to be fine. I can assure you that. he just has a pretty bad case of tonsillitis, which is an infection that affects your…”  
“Tonsils!” John guessed, and the doctor smiled.   
“Yes, and I determined that the best treatment for this is…”  
“Medicine,” George guessed.  
“Surgery,” the doctor corrected, and all four of the Beatles exchanged a worried look.  
“No way!” George exclaimed. “You can’t operate on him!”  
“No, George, it’s okay. I’ve had four operations in my life. It’s nothing new,” Ringo answered bravely. The other three thought he was truly crazy, and had lost all of his marbles.   
“Ringo, you are actually going to let this nut ball cut you open and rip out your insides? Did they drop you on the way in?” John asked, and then turned to the doctor and said, “No offense.”  
“He won’t have to be cut open. We’ll go in through his mouth,” the doctor explained.  
“Ew,” George replied. “That sounds…unpleasant.”  
“Like a dentist office in a horror movie,” Paul added with a small smile.  
“Oh, let’s not mention that awful place,” John said with a shiver. George agreed.   
“Boys, I didn’t finish explaining.”  
“What’s there to explain? He’s sick. You need to knock him out and then rip out his internal organs. It’s simple,” John replied with a shrug. The doctor rolled his eyes.  
“Look, boys, we need to do this, and fast, but there is a problem.” The boys started to get really worried.  
“A…problem? What sort of problem?” Paul asked.   
“Well, the thing is that Ringo requires about a pint of blood for the surgery,” he explained slowly. The boys each nodded, “But, the hospital doesn’t have any of his blood type, because it’s a rare one.”  
“What is it?” John asked.  
“A negative,” the doctor answered.  
“I’m A negative. I never knew that,” Ringo remarked.   
“And, unfortunately, until we find some we aren’t going to be able to operate,” he concluded.  
“Well, what are you going to do?” Paul demanded.   
“I…I don’t know…”  
“Will he be okay…in the mean time?” George asked. The doctor didn’t answer.   
“Tell us,” John said darkly.  
“He’ll be stable, but it is an infection, and a strong one, and…antibiotics can only do so much…”   
“Wait! I know where you can get A negative blood,” John interrupted. Everyone looked at him. he grabbed Paul’s arm and pulled it forward so the doctor could see. “Right here.” Paul looked at him worriedly.  
“I…I’m not…”  
“You are. I sneaked a peak at your medical file once, and I remember it saying you were.”  
“Are you sure?” The doctor demanded.  
“You can check, but I remember.”  
“Wait, what were you doing inside my medical file?” Paul demanded.  
“Long story, I was trying to see if there was any information I could black mail you with, but…I found nothing.” Paul just looked at him for a long time with a shocked and bewildered expression on his face.  
“So, are you up to it?” The doctor asked.  
“Up to what?” Paul asked, confused.  
“Donating your blood for Ringo’s surgery?” The doctor answered. Paul was taken aback. It was such pressure that he wasn’t prepared for.   
“Please, for me,” Ringo asked, and Paul smiled.  
“Sure, of course. Name a time and a place,” he answered.  
“Here, and now,” the doctor answered. he pulled out a chair and pushed Paul into it. “I have to get a nurse and few supplies. I’ll be right back.”


	4. Tell Me Where It Goes, and Tell Me Quick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul prepares for his blood donation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, there isn't that much more to this fic, so be prepared for it's ending to come soon.

“What just happened?” Paul asked bewildered. The other three laughed.  
“You know he’s out there getting a needle right now.”  
“Oh, God, I can already picture it.”  
“Paul, you get a tiny needle in your arm, and I get an organ ripped out, do you see the difference?” Ringo retorted.  
“You’ll be unconscious,” Paul whined.  
“Macca, I never knew you were so scared of needles,” John replied happily. It was a gift from God that John was so happy to receive. As much as John was the bravado one, it was Paul that was the toughest when it came to pain and medical stuff. Out of the four of them he was the least scared of the stuff—or so he claimed—now, the other three weren’t so sure. He was also the only one to be completely relaxed when it came to the dentist. But, in all their years as best friends they’d never seen Paul have to confront a needle, and they were all enjoying watching.   
“No! no way! I am not afraid of a needle. It’s just…a little sharp thing digging into my arm and draining an entire pint of blood from me,” he replied, his voice up an octave. None of them were fooled.  
“You do realize it is a pretty big needle,” George replied.  
“How…big?” He asked carefully.  
“Like...as long as my pinkie,” he countered, holding out his pinkie to show him. Paul noted the long length of his pinkie. It made him even more nervous, because truthfully he was very nervous. he wasn’t bad with medical stuff. In fact, the other three weren’t wrong thinking he was the best with it. the only thing that tripped him up were needles. Big ones. And, the thought of them taking blood away from him. he gulped.  
“Don’t worry, Cyn gave blood once, and she was so scared she cried, but when it was over they gave her a cookie and a juice box,” John said, trying to cheer him up. Paul just gave him an annoyed look.  
“Cheer up, Paul, at least your helping a friend,” George said. Paul nodded, because he knew he was right. He knew that despite his fears he would do this for Ringo. The last thing he wanted was for him to get really sick, and maybe even…and he not have done anything when he could’ve. He had to brace himself, and let his fears go. But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t hold onto them a little while longer.  
“W-where do they…put it?” He asked nervously. John couldn’t help but notice how adorable Paul sounded and looked when he said that. he almost wanted to hug him.   
“Cyn said they put it right here,” he replied, pointing to the crook of his elbow. Paul stared at it. it looked like the last place anyone would want a shot.  
“I heard that’s a really bad spot for needles,” George pointed out. Paul gulped.  
“Don’t scare my donor,” Ringo urged.   
“You don’t have to worry, Rings, I’ll do this no matter how bad it really is,” Paul reassured. George and John were reluctant to believe him.  
“You haven’t seen it yet,” John pointed out.  
“Yeah, but…” Paul didn’t have a response to that.


	5. Ow--Shit! Sorry, Ringo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul gets his blood drained.

The doctor came back in there, and sure enough, he had a needle attached to a long tube that was attached to a small bag. He told Paul to relax. Paul could do anything but. He 

was too scared. He knew it would hurt, and that was scaring him to death.

“Doctor…will this hurt?” He asked shyly.

“How long is a piece of string?” The doctor asked.

“I think that depends on the string,” George answered.

“He means there is no answer,” John corrected. 

“Exactly, there isn’t an answer.”

“But, you can find the length of a piece of string. You measure it. so, if you were measuring the pain that is going to be administered what would it be?” Paul demanded. The 

doctor sighed.

“Probably a three, maybe more.”

“On a scale of…” Paul prompted. The doctor didn’t answer. He just wiped the crook of his elbow with a cotton ball, and he could smell the alcohol. He knew this was it. there was 

no turning back. he looked at that needle, and then up at Ringo, and then back at that needle, and then at the cotton ball on his elbow. “Is there any other way to get blood?”

“Yes, Paul, we’ll just give you a paper cut and squeeze a pint of blood out of you,” John replied sarcastically.

“Will you at least tell me when you are going to do—oh, you are doing it, there is a needle in my arm! Ow, oh my God, this hurts. Oh, God, fuck Ringo, fuck Ringo!” he screamed. 

Ringo shrugged. 

“I know he doesn’t mean it. he’s just in severe amounts of pain,” Ringo replied. Paul balled his hands into fists, and closed his eyes. John quickly squeezed his hand.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he whispered. Paul looked at him, and half smiled. 

“It’s starting to hurt less,” Paul replied. 

“I’m glad.”

“And, I kind of feel…woo…you know,” Paul continued.

“Yeah, I know,” John agreed. 

“I feel really bad. I wish you didn’t have to go through this,” Ringo said. Paul looked at him in surprise for a long time before finally saying, “Why? You are the one that has to get 

surgery. I couldn’t even imagine that.”

“It really isn’t so bad. You guys are exaggerating, really. They put me to sleep, and wake up a few hours later, and it’s as if nothing happened. you don’t feel it or anything. so, 

what’s the big deal,” he responded. 

“But…what if something happened to you in there? and, you were just…just…” Paul couldn’t finish. Ringo gave him a half smile.

“Guys, nothing bad is going to happen. Trust me, I’ve had some surgeries go the wrong way before, but this time it is a more minor surgery, and there’s less risks. You guys got to 

stop worrying about me,” he explained. But all of them were worried, and there was nothing he could say to reassure them that their friend would be okay just because he said so. 

The doctor and the nurse removed the needle from Paul’s arm, and took away his blood.

“Bye Paul’s blood!” John called, waving as they left the room. Paul munched on a cookie, and John looked at Paul for a while. He was worried about him. as much as he teased him 

he was genuinely concerned that this didn’t hurt him. so, he asked. “Did…did they rough you up too bad?” He asked carefully. Paul smirked.

“A bit, at least at first. it hurt a lot when they put the needle in, but after that it was okay,” Paul answered, and he rocked to the side and bumped John in the shoulder, and John 

bumped back. and, then they continued this a couple of times before George blurted, “I’m sure there is a closet available for you two.” They both chuckled, but the look they gave 

each other suggested that it wasn’t a bad idea.


	6. What...did you do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo goes into surgery with some delay.

Soon after the doctor came in and looked mournful. “Um, Paul, I’m not sure how to tell you this, but…”

“Oh, spit it out, boy!” John urged.

“We lost your blood.”

“You lost my blood?” He shouted, outraged.

“Well…you see…they were taking it up to surgery, and apparently there was a sharp turn, and long story short, your blood was splattered all over the spinal wing,” he explained. 

Paul just gaped at him.

“So, what am I supposed to do about Ringo?” He demanded.

“Well, we could take one more pint,” he suggested.

“No way! Once was fine, but twice! I can’t do it!” He retorted. Then, he looked at Ringo who looked back at him, and he softened. He sat back in the chair, and held his arm out. 

“Just…get it over with, and fast.” a smile spread across the doctor’s face, and he reached for a needle. John and George squeezed each of his hands, and Paul closed his eyes. 

Somehow he was more afraid then before. The doctor stuck the needle in his arm, and he winced. 

It was over quickly, and Paul relaxed. John picked up the bag of Paul’s blood and looked inside. “Aw, it’s like you in goo form—“ he said as he dropped the bag on the floor and it 

splattered all over the place. All four of them looked at it for a long time before saying anything else. 

“Get. The. Doctor!” Paul commanded.

An hour later, Ringo closed his eyes, and John and George was by his side. “We’ll meet you on the other side, okay,” John told him as he drifted off to sleep.

“Yeah, it’s okay, we’ll be here, and so will Paul, when he comes to,” George added. Lying next to them on a bed was Paul, unconscious. After donating three pints of blood, he 

collapsed. The doctor said he’d be okay he just needed some rest. 

After Ringo was taken away, John stood over Paul, waiting. He stroked his hand, and sung softly to him. He kissed his forehead. “I won’t leave you.” 

George paced back and forth waiting for Ringo to get out. eventually George just stopped, looked up at John and said, “The last time he got surgery he was in the hospital for two 

years.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want that to happen,” George insisted. 

“I don’t either.”

“But…what if…?”

“We can ‘what if’ all we want, but that’s not going to change anything. we just have to wait,” John answered. George nodded, and sat down on the edge of Paul’s bed.

“Do you think he can hear us?” He asked. John shrugged. 

“Hello, Paul!” He called, and Paul barely stirred. 

“I guess not,” George answered disappointedly.

“Wait, I got an idea,” John whispered. “Bridgette Bardot is here naked!” he didn’t react. “Okay, he’s out cold.” 

Eventually, Paul’s eyes fluttered open, and his face was met with John’s. he grinned. “Did they take out Ringo’s tonsils?” And, John chuckled, ruffled his hair, and replied, “Yeah, 

they did.” he stepped away, and revealed Ringo lying in the bed next to him, and his eyes meeting his. Paul smiled even wider. 

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” he replied. 

“You don’t have to.” They reached their hands out, and squeezed them together. John grew slightly jealous.


End file.
